


Save a Horse, Ride a Biker

by therogueheart



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Anal sex toys, Biker Tony Stark, Fingering, Gay Sex, Kissing, M/M, Motorcycle Misuse, Motorcycle Sex, Motorcycles, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Rough Kissing, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sportsbikes, Student Peter Parker, Unsafe Vehicle Use, based on a tumblr prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23454160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therogueheart/pseuds/therogueheart
Summary: Peter's classmates don't believe that the attractive man on his lockscreen isactuallyhis boyfriend, much less not some international model.Naturally, Tony has a way to fix that, and a way to make his baby feel better on the way home, too.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Peter Parker
Comments: 7
Kudos: 425





	Save a Horse, Ride a Biker

**Author's Note:**

> Someday, I'll get better at writing summaries.   
> I also don't condone engaging in sexual acts or any form of distracting act when riding a motorcycle, even if you're just riding bitch. Please stay safe, kids!

Nobody had really believed Peter when he’d quietly admitted to having a boyfriend. It wasn’t that he was _ugly_ , no. Peter was just basically married to his studying, and had seemed utterly and steadfast disinterested in any other offer of company. Though, if he _did_ have a boyfriend, that would explain why. 

And nobody really believed him when they caught the face on his lockscreen. The devastatingly handsome thirty-something model of a man that eyed them with a tilted head and a killer smirk. This was the guy you saw in California, dating movie stars and fucking models, not living in Manhattan and dating a barely-legal college student. 

So when Leah Denvers overhears Peter talking about how his boyfriend will be picking him up from college, near enough the entire school gathers outside, hovering on the steps and all doing their best to fake disinterest, like they aren’t eyeing the boy stood on the edge of the curb like hawks. 

The noise comes first. Like thunder, but fiercer. Like with the rolling booms comes the trickling purr of a jungle cat, and the warning snarl of a dragon. Something angry and something powerful. Something that knew it had the rule of the streets. Nobody bothered to feign disinterest anymore. 

The beast that came charging around the corner was sleek and black, abstract edges and sharp points, a being that would blend into the darkness if not for its glowing red eyes. The rider that mounted it sat low, leaning over the tank, dressed head to foot in a sleek, black leather suit and helmet. 

Peter breathed a sigh of relief, acutely aware of every single set of eyes on his back. Tony being here meant they could make a rather speedy getaway. Ned had apologetically abandoned him on the curb, whisked away to a family meal with some long-lost Auntie. 

The rider steered the bike to an elegant halt and sat upright slowly, blacked out, glossy visor turning slowly to face him as the rider sat astride the bike, letting it growl between his thighs, hands resting calmly on the tank. Peter could see his own face in the visor, cheeks flushed, pupils blown. 

Peter stepped off the curb and up close, close enough he could smell the leather and the gasoline, could feel the heat of the bike and damned near her vibrations. He reached up a hand and delicately thumbed the safety lock of the helmet, lifting the visor up slowly until he could see dark, dark eyes, framed by long, thick lashes. 

People were talking. Whispering furiously. Peter knew what they were saying. Knew their doubts. He was just a semi-popular, not-so-great-with-fashion college student. How was a man like this with a boy like him? 

Tony Stark leaned away from him just slightly, blinking slowly like a cat as he reached behind him, for the spare jacket and helmet strapped safely to the seat Peter would soon occupy. He shrugged on the thick, armoured jacket himself, but obliged when Tony took the helmet from his hands, tugging up the bandanna from around his neck to cover his lower face, gentle and careful when he helped Peter to put it on and to tighten the straps. 

Tony let his head dip, pressing their helmeted foreheads together, like a tender kiss. He did it, each time before a ride. Good luck, he called it. And then he was bracing his legs and the bike, holding her stable as Peter put a hand to his shoulder and bounced up onto the back, tucking his legs into the correct position and sighed in contentment as he draped himself over Tony’s back, arms tight around his toned waist. 

Nearly the entire school was still staring when the engine gave a great roar between his thighs and leapt forwards. He would never get used to the thrill, would never get used to the leap in his chest and the tingle of adrenaline through his veins. But the worst was the vibrations, unrelenting against his ass, and being pressed so close against his lover, entrusting him with his very life. 

Peter wobbled off the bike hard between his legs more often than not. 

Tony did, too. 

They came to a halt at a stop light, Tony leaning upright to keep steady as they waited, and Peter relaxed against him, squeezing him lovingly. Tony reacted by reaching back, a large, gloved hand squeezing his thigh before it went to the throttle and twisted, just enough to hitch the revs, enough to have Peter squirming on the pillion seat, biting his lip. 

On the freeway, Tony set her free, the engine a thrumming monster beneath them. The angle that Peter sat upon her meant that the steady purr licked at the insides of his thighs, his asscheeks, against his tender cock. He knew for a fact where Tony’s cock was squeezed against the tank that he was hard. It was in each careful, uncomfortable hitch of his hips. 

Very slowly, Peter let his hands slide down Tony’s stomach, inch by inch until he was thumbing at the stiff leather over his flanks, stifling his hot cock. Tony pulled one hand from the bars and lay it over his hand, pressing Peter’s palm down firmly against the hard rise of his length so they were both squeezing his cock, before he returned it to the steering. 

Halfway to Tony’s penthouse, Peter was hard enough that it ached, uncomfortable in his jeans, hips nudging against the base of Tony’s spine on each opportunity. His boyfriend reacted in kind, squeezing his thighs and revving the engine when there was no need, just to tease Peter with the powerful vibrations. 

Where he ought to have turned left, Tony turned right, and Peter watched the city blur into mostly abandoned lanes and streets. In a nook between a tall, abandoned apartment complex and a parking zone, Tony nudged the bike to the side and to a halt, reaching back to tap Peter’s thigh twice. 

Dismount. 

No sooner than Peter had stepped out of kicking range, Tony was kicking the stand down and swinging a leg over, hands reaching for his helmet. His hair was tousled and messy when he pulled it off, tugging down the bandanna to around his neck, tearing at his gloves with a dark, hungry gaze. Peter couldn’t bite back his grin, legs still tingling from the ride as he tore at his own helmet and jacket. 

For all their impatience with taking the gear off, they were still careful when they set it down, out of the way and with care before large hands settled on Peter’s hips, spinning him. A hand between his shoulders and he went down, folding over the bike with a half-giggle of delight, Tony’s thick thigh forcing his legs apart, making him present. 

“Such a desperate little slut, hm? Couldn’t even wait to get home. You just had to beg to be filled up” Tony breathed, hot and husky against his ear, folding over him like a stallion mounting his mare, hard and firm and unforgiving against him from shoulders to thighs. Peter could do nothing but mewl, pawing at the bike helplessly and arching against his lover. 

“Hhngh, _please_. Tony, fuck. Please. You’re so - None of them believed me. You’re that fucking _hot_ they all thought I was lying” Peter rasped, eyes rolling when Tony nuzzled at his neck, coaxed him to bare it so he could sink his teeth into the soft, vulnerable flesh. 

“Mm, and do you like that they believe you _now_ , pet? Do you like that they know you bounce on my cock like my good little boy?” It was punctuated with a harsh jolt of his hips, and Peter hissed. 

“ _Yes_ ”. 

“Do you feel pride, knowing they want me, but they know they can’t have me? That they can’t, because _you_ are Daddy’s little whore?”. 

Peter nearly sobbed, rocking his hips against the bike for friction, for anything as Tony reached for his ass, squeezing a fat cheek harshly before he pushed his hand under the loose band of his jeans, firm fingers pressing down on the base of the plug that was nestled deep in his ass, flared wide within to stretch his slick little insides. 

“Daddy likes it, too” Tony purred in his ear, fucking the plug into him with short little presses, hand reinforced by the harsh thrusts of his hips. Tony licked at his neck, his jaw, bit the shell of his ear with a low rumble and drove a hand into his hair, twisting and gripping hold of the silky locks for purchase. 

“P-Please” Peter breathed shakily, spreading his legs wider, pressing his ass back against Tony’s hand and his cock, biting at his lip to try and stifle the sounds tearing from his throat. Abandoned didn’t necessarily mean nobody was lurking in the shadows. 

“Mm, since you were so good, and wore this all day” Tony pretended to muse, and Peter nearly cried when he felt Tony’s fingertip slide around the edge of the plug, against his sore and stretched rim, which bent around the gentle pressure and then sucked his fingertip in greedily, a brief burst of pain quickly smothered by the heat of pleasure. 

“O- _Oh_! _Fuck_. Fuck, please. _Tony_!” Peter whimpered, head dropping as he scrabbled for purchase against the bike, near drooling as his thighs began to shake. Tony pressed against the plug again and brushed a thumb over his raw hole, forcing a shaky breath from his younger boyfriend. 

“If you cum now, little slut, you’ll have to ride the rest of the way home wet” Tony warned. Peter knew how uncomfortable it would be, how raw and tacky it would feel when his cum began to dry, but he nodded wickedly none the less, rutting against the frame of the motorcycle and squirming his hips to encourage Tony’s finger deeper. 

From behind him, Tony gave a low hum, and used his own hips to shove his finger deeper, startling a yelp from Peter that morphed into a cry as Tony rubbed at his sweet spot, his tender hole stretched too wide too soon, but Peter loved every moment of it, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back when the boiling heat in his stomach pooled and overflowed, legs buckling so he collapsed against the bike as he came on a cracked gasp of Tony’s name. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me” Tony coaxed him, gentle and overcareful as he rubbed him through it, and eased his finger out. He crowded Peter tighter, squeezing him against the bike as one hand came up to grip his jaw, thumb forcing his mouth open like a reluctant horse for the bit, the other pushing his slick finger into Peter’s mouth, so he could taste himself, stroking the back of his tongue until the boy hiccuped on a gag. 

“If you’re not hard again by the time we get back, I’m going to tie you naked to the bike on the driveway, and leave you there” Tony whispered sweetly. 


End file.
